


Week of Days

by RowboatCop



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson really enjoys giving oral sex, Coulson really likes it when Skye tells him what to do, Coulson stays at home waiting, D/s interactions, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Post 'What they Become', Sex, Skye becomes a Superhero, Skye figuring out kinky uses for her powers, Skye goes off to find herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/pseuds/RowboatCop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven days in the lives of Skye and Coulson after 'What They Become.' Skye leaves The Playground to go find herself, and Coulson takes that time to get used to the idea that he's totally in love with Skye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

It’s a Monday when when he follows her down into the tunnels under San Juan.

In the midst of the earthquake, once Mack is Mack again, they huddle together near one of the rock walls separating him from Skye and all he can think about is her. He has to admit that he came down just to see her one more time, not knowing if he would survive, so his last thoughts are not regret over the end of his life but rather over being separated from her.

It’s startling to realize that.

It has _been_ startling to realize a lot of things about her (about _them_ ) in the year and a half they’ve known each other, but just recently it has seemed like every startling thing — how much he likes her, how much he trusts her, how much he wants her around, how much he would do for her, how much he _wants_ her — has collided into a very inconvenient realization.

It would be much less inconvenient if he weren’t expecting to die, he thinks.

And then the rock wall separating them crumbles and Skye is there in front of him.

Something pale and humanoid darts past them — and it will take him several days to even process what _that_ means — but he barely registers it in the moment because Skye is standing in front of him.

Instead of running, instead of getting out, Coulson wraps her in a hug that she returns — too tight on his bruised ribs. He really doesn’t care about that, though, too concerned with feeling her alive and well and _Skye_ in his arms.

And then, as he hugs her to himself, the shaking around them stops. He knows the cavern is still unstable, knows they still need to get out, but it feels like a reprieve just so he can do _this_.

His ears keep ringing after the earth is still again, and Coulson keeps Skye folded in the too-tight hug until he can once again hear Mack behind him, picking himself up. When he finally pulls back, it’s to inspect her, to see what he had felt already — that she is alive and unhurt and still herself.

“Trip,” she whispers, eyes filled with tears. “Trip…” Skye shakes her head as tears begin to slip down her cheeks, and the tunnels shake around them again, little tremors like aftershocks.

“Skye, we’ve got to —” He lays his hand against her cheek, wiping away tears, and as she meets his eyes the room stops shaking again. Instead of relief at the end of the tremors, though, her eyes grow even more terrified — wide and dark and wet — and he understands what’s happening.

His stomach sinks.

Not because Skye has some sort of gift, but because she didn’t escape what Raina and her father started. She didn’t escape this plan they set in motion, she didn’t escape from what other people have told her is her _fate_. He couldn’t save her. And Trip...

“Coulson,” she whispers, small and terrified, and his heart breaks for her.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises, moving his hands to grip her upper arms. “Just take a breath, stay calm. We need to get out of here.”

She nods and looks past him to Mack, who is watching the scene in confusion.

“Can you walk?” Skye extracts herself from Coulson’s grip and touches Mack’s arm as she addresses him.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You fell a long ways,” Coulson tells him, and Mack shakes his head.

“That wasn’t me. There was something inside my head, and it changed my body, too.” He looks around the cavern and then meets Coulson’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Coulson knows how hard that’s going to be for Mack to accept, understands intimately what it is to cause harm to people you care about when _something_ has control of your brain.

Mack nods once, and together the three of them head towards the exit, Skye staying between them with a hand on each of their arms. She is stronger now, he can feel it in the way she offers support on his left arm, and the rib-crushing hug from earlier suddenly makes a lot more sense.  

 

—

 

It’s a Monday when they get out of the tunnels.

The same Monday, of course, but it feels like hours or days or weeks or perhaps lifetimes have passed.

Fitz runs at Mack, beating out Bobbi, who stands back next to Simmons and watches the reunion.

It’s touching, taking up everyone's attention, and it takes a few moments for Trip’s absence to register.

“Where’s —” Simmons is, not surprisingly, the first to notice, and she directs the question towards Skye, who is still holding onto Coulson’s arm. Whether for her benefit or his, he doesn’t know.

He feels her body tense and frees his arm from her grip in order to run a hand down her back. She relaxes a little bit into his touch as she shakes her head sadly at Simmons, and no more tremors happen, even when Simmons’s face crumbles.

It surprises him that Skye doesn’t cross to her friend’s side, that she lets Bobbi be the one to comfort Simmons, but Skye stays pressed against him as she takes slow, deep breaths.

“Trip didn’t make it,” Coulson tells the group, and Skye nods again.

“He was trying to save me.” The words are barely vocalized, scratchy and soft, and everyone turns to look at Skye as she stands there, shaking in the aftermath. He can feel how much everyone wants to ask what happened — of course he wants to know, too — but right now Skye is all that matters. Skye's wellbeing is all that matters.

“Not right now,” he cuts off discussion.

“Are there...remains?” Simmons asks the questions between sobs, and Skye tenses under his hand. There’s another rumble around them, which stops when she draws a deep breath. Coulson hopes that no one else saw that connection — the way May is looking at them, though, he isn’t sure.

“I don’t think so. He...he touched the obelisk, I think. He was stone, and then in the earthquake, he… The stone…”

Coulson’s hand on her back draws Skye into another hug, there in front of the entire group, and it feels wrong — almost dangerous — to do this in front of people, but he also _can’t not_. He can’t not.

He clears his throat as Skye lays her head on his shoulder.

“We need to get off the ground.”

Everyone nods, everyone understands that they can’t go back down into the collapsing cavern after something to bury, especially not when it’s crumbled to dust. Trip’s coffin will have to be empty, just like Coulson’s.

Coulson and Skye are the last to leave the tunnel entrance, and he keeps a hand on her until she’s tucked safe in her bunk.

When she wakes up the next morning, though, she retreats from his touch. Not knowing what else to do, he backs off, allows her to withdraw.

  


 


	2. Tuesday

It’s a Tuesday when she leaves.

She hangs around for an entire week, but he has seen it coming in the way she pulls further and further away from everyone. Nothing about Trip’s death was her fault and everyone knows it, but Skye still takes it hard. He wonders if, had Trip’s death not been part of the bargain, it would be easier for Skye to accept her powers. When it comes at the expense of a friend, though, Coulson can see how it would feel like anything but a gift.

“Will you come back?”

He doesn’t ask her to stay, doesn’t even ask her to come back. Skye’s choices have been taken away from her and he doesn’t want to impose anything on her — he wants for her to choose what she wants.

“Yes,” she answers.

“Can I contact you?”

“I’ll contact you.”

Coulson nods, accepting.

“Will you take a satellite locator, just in case something happens?”

“Are you going to use it to track me down?”

“I’ll restrain myself,” he promises, “unless I have reason to believe something is wrong. Just please let me know that you’re safe.”

It comes across like begging, but then Coulson stopped caring about his pride around Skye a long time ago. He won’t ask her to stay, he won’t do anything to affect the choices she wants to make, but he will do this — he will ask for this one thing.

“I will,” she promises. “And I’ll come back.” She says that like it’s a promise, too. “But I can’t be here right now.”

He nods. He gets it.

“I can’t go to Trip’s service tomorrow,” she tells him, and he thinks she looks _ashamed_ of herself for skipping it, as though it’s somehow selfish.

“Skye —”

“I know,” she assures him. She knows she’s not at fault, and she knows that everyone would understand why if she told them.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No,” she answers him. “May’s going to drop me off...pretty much right now.”

Coulson swallows and nods. May has been the one other person towards whom Skye hasn’t totally closed herself off, and he’s glad for that, though he doesn’t know exactly what’s passed between them except that May told Skye about Bahrain. May is much better equipt that he is to help Skye deal with this stuff, and he’s glad Skye has had that. And he’s glad May has had it, too — the chance to connect and talk to someone who can understand in a way that he never could.

“Can I hug you?” Again, the question comes out more pathetic, more small than he would like, but Skye has been avoiding physical contact. And it’s funny because it shouldn’t be something he notices, but at some point — in the recent past, he knows it’s quite recent — touching Skye has become habit. Not big things, but laying a hand on her shoulder or her elbow for just a moment, standing close enough that they brush against each other. Somewhere along the line, those became an integral part of their relationship, and Coulson finds the sudden distance between them to be jarring.

Skye smiles at him, though, a smile almost like she would have given him back before all of this started.

“Yeah.”

Her arms are too careful as they circle his shoulders, a reminder that part of her withdrawal is that she doesn’t know her own body anymore, doesn’t even know how strong she is.

“Harder,” he whispers against the side of her face as he squeezes his own arms around her middle.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

She tightens her hold on him slowly, incrementally, as he does the same.

“That’s better,” he tells her when it finally feels like she’s hugging him hard, even though he knows that from her perspective she’s probably not. It sinks in, then, how hard this must be for her, having to relearn her own body in addition to powers. Having to figure out her body and her mind and her emotions at the loss of a friend, the gaining of a father, the removal of so many of her choices.

She relaxes against him, now that she’s not worried about hurting him, and Coulson breathes in the smell of her hair. He thinks he might feel her lips on his neck, or maybe it’s just puffs of warm air against the sensitive skin there, but it makes him shiver in her arms. It’s not possible to stop the wave of arousal — at Skye, Skye in his arms, Skye with her lips practically pressed against his neck.

Coulson strokes her back, his hand moving in a way that goes well past friendly. Soft fingertips drag up and down her spine, a sensual stroke that’s definitely meant to make her shudder against him and arch into his touch.

“Coulson,” she sighs his name and rolls her head forward so that he can slide his hand up to her neck. She moans, a soft little sound that lodges in his groin, and her right hand rakes up the back of his head in a similar gesture.

“Skye." He pulls back slightly, just so that he can look into her eyes. It suddenly feels like it’s in the air between them in a way it’s never been before: He wants her. She wants him.

But he doesn’t know what to do with that.

Some part of his brain — he’s not sure whether it’s an angel or a devil or actually just his penis — wonders if he could make her stay. If he kissed her now, if he ran his hand up to the back of her neck, tugged on her hair to tilt her mouth upwards, and directed her lips towards his, if she would stay.

He pulls back, instead; but he can’t quite take his hands off of her.

“See. Didn’t hurt me.”

Skye nods, her eyes searching his, and he knows she’s trying to put a name to this as much as he is.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Not so difficult.”

“It will get easier,” he promises, and she nods again. He can see it in her eyes, that she’s thinking about staying, wondering about exploring whatever this is.

But that would be a mistake. As much as learning to control her powers, she needs to find herself now, even if finding herself means reaffirming that she’s still the same Skye. He’s not sure whether he conveys that in his gaze or whether Skye just knows it the same as he does, but she finally lets go of him and steps back.

“I just have to recalibrate myself.”

“Recalibrating is good.”

The air between them is heavy with a lot of things not said, but when Skye turns from him and walks to the door, he thinks she looks better than when she walked in, shoulders back and head held up. He’d like to think that he does have that effect on her — making her feel more sure of herself, more like herself. God knows, her presence does that for him.

“I’ll call,” she promises as she walks out the door, throwing a glance back at him.

“I’ll be waiting.”

  
  



	3. Wednesday

It’s a Wednesday when May first calls him on his antisocial behaviors.

It’s been a week, and he likes to think that he’d have pulled himself out of it without May’s intervention, but he also doesn’t hold it against her. If anything, he feels guilty for being so obvious that she feels the need to step in.

“I know you miss her. We all do. But you need to shape up, Phil.”

“I know.”

That shuts May down a little — she’s clearly come in expecting a fight.

“Good. The rest of the team need to see you. They need your reassurance that everything will be fine.”

He nods. He agrees.

“I can do that,” he tells her. It’s not like he’s been sitting around in his underwear or anything. Just, he finds himself thinking about Skye too often — and not just thinking about her, but thinking about things from her perspective, imagining how terrifying it must be to be in her shoes. And he _can_ imagine that; he’s actually very well equipt to imagine that.

So he’s been doing that instead of seeing the team, training with the team, eating with the team. He’s been dodging everyone, including responsibilities that involve contact with other people. It’s bad of him, especially because he knows he should be reassuring Mack in particular.

“Maybe you need this time away from her as much as she does.”

“What?” He startled by that suggestion because the idea that he could be improved through distance from Skye is absurd.

“You went down those tunnels after her,” May tells him, mouth pulled into a harsh frown. “You went down there after her even though there was nothing you could have done. There was no reason for you to go except —”

“Except that I’m in love with her,” he supplies, feeling remarkably good humored for all that he had not planned on having this kind of personal conversation with May. This sort of thing isn’t really something that they do. Intimacy between them has always been quiet and comfortable, and moments of revelation and deep discussion happen in quiet bursts — admissions and declarations in the middle of a mission, heavy thoughts dropped and left to sink in — and not in formal discussions, sitting in his office.

“So you’re admitting it.” He can’t exactly read the look on her face, but it’s not the anger or condemnation or contempt that he might have feared. “Did you talk about it before she left?”

“Not in so many words. But it was...acknowledged? Maybe.”

May nods and takes a seat in the chair across from his desk.

“She’s been smitten with you since the beginning, you know.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true. I think you were the first person in her life who made her feel like she mattered.”

“I’m afraid that’s what makes it so inappropriate,” Coulson confesses to her, speaking aloud something he hasn’t fully admitted to himself. “It’s never been so literal that I think Skye looks at me like a father, but —”

“Valuing someone isn’t necessarily a paternal role, Phil. You’re right that you’ve been a mentor to her, but you’ve always treated her more like an equal.” He knows that’s true, knows that part of May’s wariness of Skye was how quickly he warmed to her like that — like something more than a junior agent. “You were smart to stay away from being her SO.”

“I knew right away that wasn’t going to work,” he admits. “I’d let her get away with anything. I can’t be like that with her.”

“Because your relationship with her has never been like that. You were too familiar with her right from the beginning.”

“I didn’t let her call me Phil,” Coulson defends himself.

“Semantics,” May dismisses. “That was you pretending it wasn’t as bad as it was.”

It makes him smile because it’s very true. The truth is that he had always encouraged Skye’s affections, had always _returned_ Skye’s affections. He’s probably the one most responsible for setting the flirtatious tone of their relationship; he’s probably the one most responsible for turning that flirtatiousness into something so intense.

“When did you come to all these conclusions?” Coulson narrows his eyes thoughtfully, not unhappy or disagreeing with what she’s saying but sort of amused that Melinda May has formed such a detailed analysis of his non-existent love life. Once, when they were in the Academy, he had tried to talk to her about a dating dilemma, and she had told him in no uncertain terms that she was not going to be _that_ kind of a friend.  (“ _I would shoot someone in the head for you, Phil, but I will shoot_ _ **you**_ _in the head if you ever try to talk to me about your sex life again.”_ )

“I’ve been watching both of you for the whole time we’ve been together, and not because Fury asked me to.”

Coulson nods. Traces of that bitterness have faded, especially since he’d had to do the same to Skye. (Since he’d asked May to do the same to Skye.)

“I know.”

“For such private people, you both wear your hearts on your sleeves when you look at each other,” May tells him, point blank.

“Does that mean that you’ll be okay with it if we…”

May nods once, and then lets out something like a smile.

“I had figured you would be much more conflicted about this,” she admits. “I’m glad you’re not. Skye doesn’t need to deal with your doubts on top of everything she’s facing already.”

Coulson smiles at that.

“Thank you. And thank you for looking out for her, too.”

“That’s not something you need to thank me for. Skye is special.” There’s a brief look in her eye — something like challenge or threat, and Coulson grins.

“Now I just need to wait for her to call.”

“I still don’t want to hear about your sex life,” she informs him dryly as she stands up. “Dinner is in an hour. Everyone’s going to eat together; you should be there.”

Coulson nods as May strides out of his office.


	4. Thursday

It’s a Thursday when she calls the first time.

That’s not entirely true because she has checked in — which means that she called at odd hours, and several times he’s woken up to a very short voice message from an unknown number. But this time, she calls in the middle of the afternoon, almost a month after her departure.

“Hi,” her voice greets him when he picks up the phone, and Coulson nearly drops it.

“ _Skye_.”

“I thought maybe we could talk for a while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” He’s been pacing the room, looking at maps of HYDRA installations and trying to anticipate next moves, so he has to scramble a little to get around his desk and seated on his chair.

There’s a long silence, during which he can hear her breathing, soft and steady into the phone. Even the sound of it calms him. He’s been trying hard — really hard — not to think too much about how much he misses her. Part of it is worry — for her physical safety, for her mental well-being — but it would be a lie to say that _most_ of it is truly worry for her. Mostly, he just _misses_ her.

“I miss you, too.” Her voice is sort of amused, and Coulson groans.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t,” she tells him. “You don’t ever do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make my choices for me. Try to pressure me to do what you want me to.”

“No,” he agrees, “I want you to make your own choices.”

“That’s why you didn’t ask me to stay.”

Coulson doesn’t answer.

“You wanted to, didn’t you? You wanted me to stay, even if you knew it was best for me to go do my own thing.”

“Yes,” he admits. The tone of her voice is what does him in; he still doesn’t want to put this on her, but he thinks she needs to hear that she is missed. That she still has a place there. “I want you to think of this as your home.”

“The Playground?”

“No." He swallows, aware that this admission _means something_. “With me.”

“With you _is_ home.”

He breathes out a sigh, something like relief, at how easily she says it.

“I’m glad.”

There’s another long silence between them, again filled with the sound of breathing on both sides, and Coulson could be happy sitting like that all afternoon.

“I’m learning to control it,” she tells him. “And focus it.”

“Focus it?”

“The vibrations come from me, and they’re not just in the ground. I can make anything vibrate. I’ve basically been shooting cans off a fence, except, you know, with my brain.”

Coulson grins.

“So it’s like a different kind of target practice?”

“Yeah, sort of. I brought my heart monitor, even, so I’m practicing just like May taught me. I’m getting pretty good at it, at really targeting it.”

“That is so cool.” Coulson feels himself starting to get too excited, winces at himself, but Skye laughs.

“I thought you’d like it. I’m thinking my codename should be Quake.”

“I like it. Powerful,” he agrees. His mind turns towards images of Skye in a superhero uniform, Skye on the Avengers, Skye saving the day.

“You’re going way overboard with plans right now, aren’t you?” She sounds amused, though, and Coulson smiles.

“I helped design Captain America’s new uniform, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I need to start shopping for something distinctive.” He can hear her smile through her words.

“You’ve got to have something distinctive,” he teases her, “so you stand out on the ‘Quake’ limited edition trading cards I’m going to have made up.”

There’s a silence on the other line, and Coulson squeezes his eyes shut, realizes he probably pushed this too far.

“I’m sorry —”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Skye cuts him off. “It’s just really good to hear your voice. I knew you’d be really excited for me, that you’d be really excited about _this_ , and I just...needed that.”

Coulson nods, even though she can’t see him.

“I know you didn’t choose it, but it can still be an amazing gift, Skye.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, though she sounds uncertain. “It’s just that…”

She trails off into silence.

“I understand. The biggest thing I learned from what happened to me, with Project TAHITI, is to see the blessings in the curses,” he offers.

“Was being brought back to life a curse?”

“I thought so for a while. And the carving…”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not needing him to say more about that. “So where was the blessing?”

“You,” he answers, simply and honestly.

“Me?”

“I never would have met you if I hadn’t been killed and then brought back from the dead.”

“And you don’t think maybe you’d be better off if you hadn’t met me?”

“Never,” his answer is quick and almost sharp, almost chastising her for even thinking it. “I wasn’t always the best man before I died,” he admits to her, subdued. “I tried, but I did things in the name of SHIELD that I wouldn’t do again. And having you in my life made me think a lot harder about taking the better path.”

He hears a sniffle on the other end of the phone.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“Skye —”

“You’re my blessing, too. Hooking up with SHIELD is a big part of the reason why any of this happened — it’s why Raina and my dad found me, it’s why so much bad stuff has happened. But...I also got you. And a home.”

“Your gift is going to be amazing, Skye. Despite the circumstances, you’ll see. You’re going to be a superhero.”

“I’m not sure I want to be a superhero.”

“You’re already a regular hero,” he points out, all earnestness, and Skye laughs.

“So it’s just an extension, you’re saying?”

“Still you, but...super powered.”

“What’s that going to mean for my place in SHIELD?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“Do you have to do Index Asset Evaluation and Intake bullshit on me?”

“The next part of SHIELD that needs to be revamped is the Index, and I’ve always thought you were the right person for that.”

She’s quiet for a long moment.

"So I can rename it?"

"Of course."

"And I can change the process? Write the handbook? Do things totally differently?

“Yes,” he answers easily. “You’ll need to consult with some of our remaining agents who worked as handlers and take their feedback into consideration.”

“What about people who were on the Index?”

“What about them?”

“I’d like their feedback to. At least the ones who didn’t go on murderous rampages. That makes sense, right?”

“Yes.” Coulson swallows. “See, this is why you’re the right person to do it.”

“And you don’t mind me leaving a big mark on SHIELD?”

“I got rid of levels for you,” he tells her. “I’m trying to build an organization that you could be proud of, Skye. One that you would want to be a part of, maybe even run one day.”

“Oh.”

“Is that...is that plan okay with you?”

“Yes,” she answers. “I...yes.”

“Good.”

There’s another long pause between them, and he hears something in the background.

“I have to go. But, can I call again tomorrow?”

“You can call as often as you want.”

“Bye, Coulson.”

“Goodbye, Skye.”


	5. Friday

It’s a Friday the first time they really address what their relationship is or will be or maybe should be.

She’s been calling two or three times a week for almost two months, for conversations that range from quick check-ins to long multi-hour chats about everything — the way she’s training, what she can do, what the Welcome Wagon should do, what other SHIELD programs need to be revamped, what HYDRA is up to, philosophies on life, the political thriller that Coulson has sitting on his nightstand and that Skye downloaded to read along with him.

She never says where she is, though, and Coulson never asks (he had asked May, once, where she dropped off Skye, but he received only a scowl in answer).

And they never talk about their relationship — about what it means to call each other home, what it means when they talk about the future of SHIELD.

The catalyst for that conversation, as it turns out, is Simmons.

Skye’s call comes before lunch, several hours earlier than usual, so Coulson thinks nothing of it when Simmons answers his phone. He’s across the room buried in files while she sits in the guest chair in front of his desk, and it’s just logical.

She gasps, though, and Coulson drops his files and races towards his desk just as Simmons hits the ‘speakerphone’ button.

“Sir, it’s _Skye_.” She declares, her voice urgent.

She's clearly expecting to see Coulson look as shocked as she is, and she catches on quickly to the fact that he isn’t.

“Hi,” comes Skye’s voice, tinny and tentative over the line.

“Hi,” Coulson answers back.

“You’ve been in contact with her,” Simmons accuses him, and Coulson raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t give me that look! I was undercover; Skye just disappeared! What secrets could you possibly be revealing by just giving me news of my friend?”

“Skye’s,” he answers with a shrug.

“Listen, Simmons,” Skye’s voice is placating.

“You don’t give me that, either.” Simmons directs her comment at the telephone and then looks back at Coulson. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” he tells her, honestly. “May knows, but she won’t say. And Skye needs time, so I’m giving it to her.”

“She needs time, but she still calls your office whenever she feels like it?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Simmons. There’s…” Skye clears her throat. “It’s complicated.”

“What could possibly be so complicated that you have to run off with no word for three months!”

Coulson glares at her, a warning look that is surprisingly effective, because Simmons’s face goes startled — like she’s actually remembered that they work for SHIELD and that there are plenty of very strange and horrible things that could be happening.

“I caused the earthquake in San Juan.” Skye says it gravely, but not with the layers of guilt that have been over her when they have discussed this before. It makes him glad for her that she can move forward.

“You...what?”

“What happened in that chamber,” Coulson supplies, “left Skye a gifted individual. She controls seismic waves —”

“I think it would be more correct to say that I just vibrate things? But it can manifest as seismic waves.”

“You’re really figuring it out, aren’t you?” Coulson’s voice is fond, he can feel his face go soft and pleased, and Simmons narrows her eyes at him even as Skye agrees.

“None of this explains why you couldn’t let me know where you are, or that you were safe!”

“I’m in China,” Skye tells them, and Coulson sucks in a breath.

“Hunan Province?”

“Yeah. May has some cousins that aren’t too far away, and she dropped with with them while I figured out where I needed to go.”

“Did you find —”

“I’d rather not talk about it over the phone,” she tells him, “even if it is a secure line. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he replies, and then looks down at Simmons, who still looks flabbergasted.

“I’m sorry, Simmons. I just...I needed to be alone. I had to work through some things.”

“And have you?”

“Yes. My control is much better, I haven’t caused any earthquakes since I got here.”

Simmons still looks upset and scared, but a smile passes over her face as she looks down at the phone.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Skye.”

“It’s good to hear your voice,” Skye answers. “But, um, I really just called to say that I couldn’t call this afternoon. I can call tomorrow, though.”

“Wait, you have a regular phone date on Fridays?”

Coulson can feel his face heat up slightly at her use of _date_ , and is annoyed at himself for being so easily embarrassed. Skye, on the other hand, just answers Simmons’s question like it’s nothing.

“Yes. I call a few times a week. And I can call you, too,” Skye promises.

“You’re in a romantic relationship with Director Coulson, aren’t you?” Simmons looks somewhere between elated and horrified, and Coulson’s eyes widen.

“I’m in China, Simmons. The romantic part hasn’t happened, yet.”

Coulson grins at that, big and stupid, and can’t even care when Simmons looks up at him and sees it.

“I’ll talk to you both later,” Skye promises, and Coulson and Simmons both offer a rushed goodbye.

“Does Agent May know about you two?” Simmons asks as she hits the power button to cut off the call.

“She knew before I did,” Coulson answers with a shrug.

“Why did Skye want to go back to the Hunan Province? If the stories were correct, her whole village was destroyed.”

“I only have part of the story,” Coulson warns her, “but there’s a race of people who have gifts that can be unlocked with the use of objects like the obelisk. Skye’s mother was one of them, and I’m guessing she found evidence of others in the area.”

“Okay...how does this relate to you, then?”

“What do you mean?

“Something happened with you and the GH-325, which you _also_ attempted to conceal from me.”

“Yes,” he acknowledges.

“The writing produced as a byproduct of the hypergraphia led us to that city, which is where Skye needed to be to gain her gift.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re...connected, the two of you.”  

“I suppose we are. Skye said once that we were pieces of a puzzle, but this was always about her.”

“So you’re a piece of her puzzle.”

“I don’t understand it, yet. Skye might know more when she comes back, though.”

Simmons nods and lets it drop.

“I’d like to look at her DNA samples again. Do you think she’d mind?”

“Probably not,” Coulson answers. “But I’ll ask her.”

“Was she really so worried about what we would think?”

“No.” He shakes his head “This is about her, not about us.”

Simmons smiles at him and nods her head thoughtfully before she returns to the files she was reading before.


	6. Saturday

It’s a Saturday when the ‘romantic part’ of their relationship really begins.

She calls him the next day, late in the evening, when he’s back in his office after dinner.

“Skye,” he sighs her name into the receiver.

“We’re alone this time?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “Simmons had a lot of questions, and she’d like your permission to look at your past DNA samples.”

“Does she really need my permission for that?”

“Perhaps not, but if you don’t want her to dig into your genetics, you can say no.”

“I want her to look,” Skye answers. “I want to know what it looks like to her. And when I come back, she can compare it to a new sample.”

“Are you thinking about coming back soon, then?”

“Yes. Why? Do you miss me?” Her voice is light and silly, and Coulson smiles as he leans back in his chair.

“You know I do.”

“What are you going to do when you see me?”

“Besides kiss you?”

“Oh, going right for a kiss?”

“I’m not a cautious man, once I’ve decided something.”

“And you’ve decided?”

“ _We’ve_ decided.” Coulson pauses, swallows. “Haven’t we?”

Skye’s laugh is deep and happy.

“Not a cautious man at all, sir,” she teases.

“I never want to make you uncomfortable,” he explains.

“I know. I like that about you. Maybe, though, just to make things easier, _I_ should kiss _you_.”

“Hmm,” he pretends to consider the offer. “How would you kiss me?”

“I think I’ll grab you by your tie and pull you down,” she answers, and Coulson smiles into the phone — at her words, at the sound of her voice.

“And then?”

“A hard kiss. Lots of tongue, so I can really taste you.”

Coulson swallows as her words wash over him. He groans and feels his cock start to get hard.

“And what should I do with my hands while you’re kissing me with lots of tongue?”

“Ohh, good question,” Skye answers, and he can almost envision her closing her eyes and thinking about the scene. “My hips. You should put them on my hips.”

“I’m going to pull you closer, you know. You’re not going to be able to keep your hand on my tie.”

“Then I’ll have to get my fingers in your hair, up the back of your head.”

He groans at the idea of that, and Skye’s smile is practically audible.

“You want my fingers in your hair, Coulson?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Where do you want my fingers?”

Skye lets out a faux-shocked gasp at that.

“Easy there. We still have our clothes on.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he defends himself, even though he knows Skye knows.

“I liked the way you touched my back the day I left,” she tells him. “Really soft so it tickled, but in a good way.”

“I can do that,” he agrees. “All the way up your spine, under your shirt.”

“Oh, you’re going under my shirt, now?”

“It’ll feel better,” he promises, and he can hear her let out a shuddering breath.

“So do I get to start taking off your shirt, then?”

“Hmm, are we in private for this kiss?”

“No,” she answers. “I’m going to kiss you first thing, no matter who’s watching.” He loves how adamant she sounds about that, but then she takes a shallow breath. “Unless you —”

“No, I like that plan.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll have to wait until I get you alone to take off your shirt,” she revises.

“And you’re in a rush to do that?”

Coulson’s not terribly humble — he knows he looks good, especially for a man of his age — but he’s also not a fool. Skye has certainly been more excited to remove the clothes of past lovers, ones with younger, firmer bodies.

“You’re joking, right?” She laughs, as though she can’t imagine him having even a moment of pause. “Do you know how hot it is when you wear t-shirts? And when you take off your jacket and tie and unbutton your collar? I think about taking off more of your clothes literally all the time.”

He takes a deep breath at her words, not quite sure how to respond to this idea that Skye is presenting — that he is extremely desirable to her. _To her_. To _Skye_ , who is young and beautiful and an actual superhero.

“Coulson? Are you… I didn’t mean to make you —”

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” He asks her, too adamant. “I can barely look at you some days without wanting to strip you down and put my mouth on you.”

“Where?” Her question is a quiet gasp, and Coulson swallows back lust.

“God, everywhere. I want to make you come on my tongue.”

She moans lightly into the phone and then seems to gather herself.

“You’re skipping ahead,” she accuses. “Let me finish taking off your clothes, and if you’re a good boy you can eat me out.”

“ _Skye_.” Her words make his cock throb in his slacks, and he can’t refrain from pressing the heel of his hand down against it, needing just a little bit of pressure.

“On second thought,” Skye’s voice is still playful even thick with arousal, “maybe you should strip for me. Would you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Slide off your jacket and loosen your tie…”

“Uh-huh.”

Coulson presses his hand harder against his cock.

“Unbutton your shirt…” Skye’s breath hitches on the other end of the line, and he wishes he could see whatever she was doing to make that happen. “I want to run my hands up your arms before you take off your t-shirt.”

The thought of her seeing his chest almost kills it for him, but Skye’s voice lulls him back.

“I’ve never seen your scar before, and I want to. Especially since you said that I’m the bright spot of you dying and being resurrected.”

“You are,” he agrees.

“So I feel like that scar makes you _mine_ , like it links us together. And I want to touch it.”

Coulson breathes through her words, not even sure how to react.

“Is that okay, Coulson?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Yes.”

“Good,” Skye sighs, a contented noise that he’s sure means she’s just touched somewhere good on her body.

“Can I take off your clothes, yet?”

“No,” she answers. “I want to see the rest of you first. You have a big cock, Coulson. I can tell, and I really want it in my mouth.”

The noise that comes out of his mouth is sort of a whimper, and he has to pull his hand off of where it’s been pressing into his clothed erection for fear he might come.

“How big is it?”

He half-laughs at the question.

“Somewhat above average? I’ve never felt the need to measure.”

“That’s either a lie, or it means it’s waaay above average,” Skye accuses, and Coulson for-real laughs. “Have you pulled it out already? Are you masturbating in your office right now?”

“No,” he answers. “I’m just really really hard.”

“Hmmm. Maybe you should unzip your pants.”

He does as she asks and takes himself in hand; pumps his fist twice over his cock as he groans.

“Are you wet, Skye?”

“Yes,” she answers, her voice quiet and more focused elsewhere — he can guess why.

“Can I talk about how much I want to strip you naked, now?”

“Yes,” she whispers, and Coulson pumps his fist over his cock as he loses himself in words.

“I love your breasts; I want to suck on your nipples so badly.”

“You’ve never seen my breasts, how do you know you love them?”

Coulson laughs at her quiet sass, and stills his hand on his cock, just squeezing as he talks.

“You wear those shirts, the button-downs that are open almost all the way to your bra. I can’t take my eyes off of you when you wear those, because when you stand just right I can see the inside curve of your breasts. That’s what I want to do first — I want to lick your breasts above your bra.”

“And then suck on my nipples,” she adds, and he thinks she sounds hopeful at that.

“You like that?”

“Yeah. Hard,” she clarifies. “I like it hard.”

“And your legs. I want to run my hands all over your legs.”

“You like my legs?”

“You wore that short dress the first day we met, and you were sitting in Lola with your thighs all bare and —”

“ _Coulson_ ,” she groans his name and then pants as she gathers herself.

“Skye, where are your fingers right now?”

She laughs at that, and clears her throat.

“On my clit. I learned a new trick that I’m trying out.”

“And what’s that?”

“I can vibrate the air just around my fingers,” she half-answers, and Coulson grins at the thought. “I bet it would feel good if I wrapped my hand around your cock.”

“I bet that would feel good with or without the vibrations.”

“Hmm. Are you still excited to go down on me, Coulson?”

“God, yes,” he answers, pumping his hand over his fist faster as he thinks about burying his face between her thighs. “Did I earn it?”

“Yes, you were very good.”

He groans and releases his cock for a moment, backing off of his orgasm just slightly before picking back up the pace.

“I want to make you come, Skye. I want to hear you come.”

“Yes.”

“With my tongue on your clit and my fingers inside of you.”

“ _Yes_.”

She seems to lose the ability to make real noise then, everything reduced to sharp gasps and hitches in her breathing as she works herself through an orgasm. The tiny sounds she makes are what drive him over the edge, and he chants her name as he comes.

Most of his semen ends up in his palm, but it’s pretty readily apparent that his slacks will need to be laundered.

He really doesn’t care.

“Coulson,” Skye sighs his name into the phone. “You should come here soon.”

“I...what?”

“Next week, I want you to come get me. I want to come home. I want to do this in person.”

“Me, too.”

“I want to tell you I love you in person.”

“ _Skye_ —”

“No,” she cuts him off. “In person.”

“Okay,” he acquiesces.

“Good boy,” she whispers, tired and half-joking, and Coulson smiles.

“You’re ready to be here again?”

“Yes.” She sounds so sure of herself, and Coulson can’t help but smile. “But there’s another part to this, too. These people I’ve met, I think they’re ready to hear out a discussion of what an alliance with SHIELD could do for them.”

Because of course, Skye can remove herself from SHIELD, but she is still part of it.

“That’s excellent,” he praises her, though she yawns through it. “We can talk about the details tomorrow.”

“Yes,” she agrees.

“Goodnight, Skye.”

“Goodnight.”


	7. Sunday

It’s a Sunday when he follows her to China; when he finally sees her again.

She’s waiting for the Bus very close to the spot where she’s told May to land, so when the hangar opens, she’s there almost instantly. Her hair is smooth and sleek, flat down her back and her forehead so that her bangs brush just beneath her eyebrows.

It’s Skye — unquestionably, the woman he is looking at is Skye — but he can see the difference in her, especially compared to the broken woman that left the Playground three months ago. She looks _powerful_ , and he can almost feel the energy she’s capable of controlling radiating off of her skin.

He’s glad that they’ve decided she should be the one to kiss him because he’s not sure he’s capable as he gapes at her — somehow more gorgeous than the last time he saw her. She does make good on her promise to kiss him, though, and it’s just the way they had planned it.

Her right hand makes a fist in his tie and tugs his mouth down to hers with no preamble. It’s hard and dirty, her lips adamant against his as her tongue explores his mouth thoroughly. He wavers between letting himself be kissed and trying to really kiss her back — it takes them at least ten seconds to find a rhythm, to find a way to let this be not about her kissing him or him kissing her, but rather kissing each other.

It’s not conscious when his hands land on her hips, tugging her body up against his, but her hands slip to the back of his neck all the same. He groans quietly at the sensation of her fingernails sliding up the back of his head, and he’s already got one hand on her back under her shirt before the sound of May clearing her throat cuts through the haze of _Skye_.

Coulson swallows and turns to face the part of his team that accompanied him to China. May looks annoyed, Simmons looks shocked, and Hunter looks a little too pleased. No surprises, really.

Before anyone has a chance to say anything, though, Skye zips towards Simmons and gathers her in a hug. Then she turns to May, and although Coulson thinks she might offer a handshake instead of open arms, the two women embrace.

He notices how confident Skye looks as she hugs Simmons and May — clearly she’s no longer worried about hurting them, clearly she understands, now, what her body can do and how to control it.

“No hugs for me?” Hunter pouts, and all three women glare at him and answer in unison:

“No.”

Skye leads them to a village full of gifted individuals, the ancestral home of her mother. She has picked up a lot of the language, but all he can tell is that it isn’t Mandarin — of course, he doesn’t know more than 20 words in Mandarin, but May isn’t following along well, either, and she’s fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese.

There are no specific promises made, no deals struck, but it’s clear that this could be the beginning of an important alliance.

“You did well,” Coulson tells her when they’re in the air back to The Playground. May is in the cockpit, Simmons is examining DNA samples, Hunter is entertaining himself, and it finally feels like they can be alone.

“It’s important to me that these people know that SHIELD is on their side.”

“It’s important to me, too,” he affirms. “We have a lot of work to do in setting up the Welcome Wagon.”

“But that can start tomorrow,” Skye tells him, putting aside that conversation as she reels him into a kiss.

“Yes,” he agrees against her mouth. He's instantly aroused at the feel of her lips against his, immediately ready to go.

“Because right now, you need to take off all of your clothes.”

Coulson nods, still utterly in awe of her.

“And if you’re good, you can go down on me.” Her grin is so deliciously dirty that all Coulson can manage to do is start taking off his jacket as he leans in to kiss her again.

Skye helps him strip down as they kiss, her hands working up the buttons on his shirt as he removes his tie, and she finally breaks the kiss when she pushes his shirt off his shoulders. Slowly, her hands trail up his arms and rub over his biceps, exploratory and gentle, but undeniably sensual. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him like this — like he should be handled with care, like he really matters.

“Skye,” he whispers her name just because he likes to say it, and her hands slide from his arms down to the hem of his undershirt. She looks him in the eyes as she runs her hands up his bare stomach, lifting the shirt as she goes. Her fingers are gentle as they rake through his chest hair, and they brush over his scar before she sees it.

They lose eye contact for only long enough for Skye to tug his shirt over his head and then lower her lips to his chest, where she proceeds to kiss his scar softly.

“Okay?” She asks quietly, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Yes,” he answers. His hands slide up and down her back before slipping up under her shirt so that his fingertips trace up her spine. “Is this?”

Her answer is a quiet hum as Skye nuzzles against his jaw and lets her hands wander over the bared planes of his upper body. It feels amazingly good to have her pressed against him like that, and he thinks the only thing that would make it better would be to feel the bare skin of her torso pressed against his.

“Let me take off your shirt?” He asks it quietly, undemandingly, as he traces a spiral shape up her bare back and feels her shudder under his touch.

“Yeah,” Skye answers, pulling back from him in order to let him strip it off, except that once it’s off Coulson loses track of any previous plans as he zeroes in on the inner curves of her breasts above her bra.

“Fuck, Skye,” he sighs, “you’re so beautiful.”

She looks surprised by that admission, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s because of his cursing.

“Do you always have a dirty mouth in the bedroom?”

“We’re not in the bedroom,” Coulson counters as he lifts her up slightly and sets her on the desk, only a few steps behind her.

Skye laughs and opens her thighs, allowing Coulson to step between them and trace his tongue down her neck to her breasts.

“I was supposed to get you naked first,” Skye complains, though the complaint comes in between thrusting her chest towards him as she rakes her right hand through his hair, encouraging him to continue.

“You want me to stop?”

Skye laughs at that and reaches behind her back to unhook her bra, which Coulson gamely pulls down and off her arms as she directs his head towards her left breast.

“Hard, right?” He checks as he sucks her nipple into his mouth.

“Yes,” she agrees, her agreement turning into a hiss of satisfaction as he increases the suction of his mouth over her.

The pressure of her hand on his head falls away as Skye props herself up with her hands just behind her back, presenting her chest to him.

“The other one,” she directs him verbally, and Coulson instantly complies. “Harder.”

“Hmm,” he hums against her skin, trying to convey how much he _likes_ it when she tells him what to do, and Skye seems to take the hint.

“I want to feel your hands.”

He’s kept them resting gently against her hips, but at her request, he runs them up her torso to cup her breasts as he begins to move his mouth back and forth.

Skye isn’t loud, not by any stretch of the imagination, but her breaths start to come in the form of tiny gasps that he feels in his cock. Her right hand takes up its place on the back of his head again, her fingernails scratching through his hair as she directs his movements while her left hand keeps her propped up on the desk.

And then, suddenly, she pushes him back.

“Skye —”

“Just give me a minute,” she whispers, panting as she collects herself.

“Are you —”

“No. It’s fine, I just wasn’t sure for a minute.”

“Should we stop?”

“I can do this,” she answers. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

She still has her right hand raised, keeping him back, and as she lowers it Coulson can’t help but take in the picture she makes — half naked on his desk, her bare breasts upturned to his gaze, her nipples dark pink and sensitive. He has to adjust his cock as he watches.

“Take off your pants.” Skye’s request comes as her eyes follow the movement of his hand on his groin, and Coulson does as asked.

He takes a moment, first, to slip off his shoes and socks, though, before unbuckling his belt. When his slacks are bunched around his ankles, Skye licks her lips — an obscene but ridiculously erotic gesture that makes him impossibly harder.

“Your boxers, too.”

Coulson nods, and is quickly stepping out of the remainder of his clothes, leaving him naked in front of her.

“I was right,” she says as she reaches for him. He walks towards her extended hand, and is only slightly surprised when she wraps her fingers around his cock in order to tug him closer.

“Skye,” he groans as she begins to jack him off, her hand moving over him slowly and easily.

“Kiss me.”

He cups her face in his palms as he does, kissing her deeply as she slides her hand up and down his shaft, keeping the pace almost frustratingly slow. His tongue explores her mouth at the same pace as her hand on his cock — slow but intense — until her thumb rubs purposefully across the sensitive spot under the head and he loses his ability to function.

“Please, Skye,” he groans into her mouth.

“What do you want? Do you want faster?”

She speeds up her pace for three strokes, which leaves him bucking against her hand even though he tries to hold back.

“No,” he finally answers, pulling back so that his cock slips out of her grasp. “No, I want to make you come.”

Skye moans and reaches for his head, pulls him into another deep kiss as she starts to work the buckle of her belt.

Coulson tugs her up off the desk as she finishes with her jeans, and he drops down to pull off her shoes and socks before peeling her pants and panties down her legs and tossing them aside.

He has every plan of taking her around to the bedroom, but he’s far too easily distracted by the sight of her naked legs stretching up before him. Starting from her ankles, Coulson runs his palms up her legs, taking time to trail his fingertips over the backs of her knees before sliding his palms up her thighs.

“God, Coulson, hurry up,” Skye whines, and he can feel her whole body vibrate with want as his fingers tease the tops of her inner thighs.

“So I earned it?”

“Yes,” she sighs as she angles her pelvis towards him. “You were good. So good.”

“Skye,” he groans as he slides his index fingers up to hold her labia apart while he flicks his tongue over her clit. It’s meant to be brief, a preview before he gets her to the bedroom, but he gets quickly carried away.

Skye sits back on the edge of the desk as his tongue chases after her clit, flickering over her in a fast pattern that leaves her bucking against his mouth as she grips the back of his head.

When she starts to shake against him, it’s not powers or vibrations, just tense muscles straining towards release, and Coulson redoubles his efforts.

Her breathing comes in hitched, gasping moans as she finally goes still against him, back arched, her hand pressing against the back of his head so that he couldn’t pull back if he wanted to.

Of course, he really doesn’t want to, and is disappointed when Skye tugs him up from the ground.

“Not done,” he complains, which earns him a low-pitched laugh from Skye.

“Later,” she sighs as she wraps a her hand around his cock and guides him forward. “You can do more later.”

“Do I have to earn it again?” He smirks at her and Skye rolls her eyes.

“If I say yes, what are you going to do?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer the question, though, as she presses the tip of his cock up inside of her and they both groan.

“Meant to go to the bedroom,” Coulson mumbles as he leans forward to kiss her. Skye returns the kiss and lifts her legs to wrap them high on his hips.

“Next time,” she promises, and then he pushes forward — all the way inside of her — and her promise becomes a long, low moan as she buries her face against the side of his neck.

Coulson draws back as much as he can with her legs wrapped around him and sets a slow pace, moving his cock deep inside of her.

“Fuck, Skye, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” she whispers against his shoulder.

“Tell me,” he begs her.

She shakes her head, and he can’t tell whether it’s embarrassment or not being able to talk, but a moment later her lips brush over his ear.

“Right there,” she whispers against his ear as they shift together. It makes him shiver, makes his whole body tingle with gooseflesh, and he speeds up the pace in this spot she likes.

“Like that?”

Skye gasps and clings to him harder.

“Yes. God, that’s —”

She doesn’t finish her sentence as her body locks around his, and he can feel her pulse around his cock as she comes.

Coulson grits his teeth through her orgasm — it feels amazing, but he’s not getting enough friction to come in this position. So when Skye’s legs loosen around his back, he pushes her down on the desk and draws her knees towards her chest.

“Going to go faster,” he warns her, and Skye nods adamantly as Coulson sets a new pace, thrusting much harder now that he can pull back more.

Skye shifts under him, raising her hips towards his, and he can see on her face when she gets the angle she needs. Her mouth drops open as they move against each other, and there’s very little finesse or skill on display — he’s going to have to take Skye to bed for a week in order to really impress her, and he _does_ want to really impress her.

As though she can tell how close he is, Skye reaches down and runs her index finger over her clit. It takes him a minute to understand what he’s feeling — that Skye is vibrating the air around her finger, that he can feel those vibrations in his cock and through his body.

He doesn’t stand a chance against that.

“I’m gonna —”

He’s vaguely aware of the fact that Skye is coming again, convulsing underneath him as he comes inside of her. She keeps the vibrations going, though, and it feels like his orgasm stretches on endlessly. By the time she stops, he’s already collapsed uselessly on top of her, trapping her hand between them.

“Fuck,” he groans some time later, when his muscles have finally regained the ability to move. He’s not sure whether to kiss her for the best sex he’s ever had, or apologize for probably not being hers.

“That was amazing,” she sighs, before he says anything, and he pulls back enough to watch her face as she stretches beneath him.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“I thought you would like that.” She looks proud of herself, and Coulson can only smile down at her as he leans in to kiss her.

“A benefit of being in love with a superhero,” Coulson suggests, and Skye laughs and then grins up at him before pulling his mouth down against hers.

“I thought you would have a harder time saying it,” she mumbles against his lips.

“I’ve had time to calibrate myself to the idea.”

“Oh?”

“I realized it when I was down in the tunnels. I ran after you without having a good reason why, and it turns out it was because I’m in love with you.”

He’s had three months to live with it, to get comfortable in this feeling of being in love with Skye. He’s lived in it, adopted it as something that’s just a part of him — something that was a part of him even without her presence. The feel of her naked body underneath his only makes it better.

“I love you, too,” she tells him, “but I’m really uncomfortable.”

Coulson laughs and pushes himself up off the desk before tugging Skye along with him towards the bedroom.

 

It’s a Monday when they finally make it back to the Playground, and it feels like a new chapter of their lives can finally start.

  
  



End file.
